![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Vermis: Lost Dungeons and Forbidden Woods
Vermis is an illustrated strategy guide for a dark fantasy game that doesn’t exist. Plastiboo, the author and artist, has taken the concept of “fake strategy guide” and executed it with absolute sincerity and fidelity. Both the writing and the crusty “screenshots” have a pitch-perfect clarity of tone and style that invites immersion.
Before describing what this book is, it’s useful to describe what it isn’t. First, Vermis is entirely original. Although its world will be familiar to fans of Dark Souls and FromSoft’s earlier King’s Field series of dungeon crawlers, there are no callbacks or veiled references or tongue-in-cheek jokes about how “it’s dangerous to go alone.” Vermis is completely its own thing.
Second, though Vermis emulates the style of a strategy guide, Plastiboo has an artistic eye for page layout that many guides in the 1990s did not. In other words, Vermis is easy to read. It also forms a narrative, albeit not in a novelistic sense. Although the text is fragmented, the reader never struggles to move from page to page. This is not House of Leaves (thank god).
Third, Vermis is more “dark fantasy” than “horror.” Although there are stylistic elements of horror, Vermis never attempts to provoke dread, disgust, or anxiety. I wouldn’t call Vermis “understated,” as it features all manner of grotesque monsters, but it’s quiet and contemplative. Aside from your character’s constant forward progress, there’s not much action.
Vermis is written entirely in a second-person point of view, a stylistic choice that works remarkably well in this context. The player-character has no set identity, so the “you” of the story is handled lightly and never becomes overbearing. The second-person narration successfully achieves its intention, which is to draw the reader deeper into a sense of playing the game.
After being introduced to a range of starting classes, you wake into a peaceful area called Deadman’s Garden, whose ferns and mosses are protected by the skeleton of a sleeping giant. You then descend into an isolated crypt, where you loot your first sword from a corpse. You also meet your first NPC, the Lonely Knight.
The Lonely Knight is not hostile, and Vermis shares his dialogue boxes. Although Plastiboo is canny enough never to narrate battles, the format of Vermis obliquely suggests gameplay. “Despite his imposing appearance,” the text reads, “the Lonely Knight is totally harmless and will not defend himself from any attack.” Underneath this passage, however, is an insert with illustrations of the knight’s equipment, which your player presumably receives by killing him.
After navigating through the Isolated Crypt and emerging from its cliffside exit, you then venture into a swamp, a forest, and more crypts and caves, each with a unique theme.
Along the way, you cross paths with various NPCs (mostly fellow knights) and pick up a collection of items. The text describing these items and encounters alludes to gameplay that’s never made explicit. The decision to leave the more interactive elements of Vermis to the reader’s imagination works in concert with the second-person narration to draw the reader deeper into the ludic simulacrum.
Reading actual strategy guides can be an uncomfortable experience, and I’ve always felt that choose-your-own-adventure books never quite deliver what they promise. Through some unholy miracle, Vermis captures the spirit of playing a game while still structuring its text and layout to form a satisfying narrative. It’s a delicate balance, and I’m in awe of how Plastiboo manages to pull it off.
It’s still too soon to tell, but I think this book might have changed my life. I wasn’t aware that it was possible to tell a story in this way. Now that I’ve been enlightened, I want more; and, if it doesn’t exist, I’m determined to make it myself.
I’ve spent the past month doing internet deep dives while trying to find more books like Vermis, but everything that I saw people recommend – from Fever Knights to Tales from the Loop – didn’t scratch the same itch. Thankfully, Vermis has a “sequel,” Vermis II, which is a fascinating evolution of the formula. Plastiboo’s publisher, Hollow Press, also offers three similar titles: Age of Rot, Leyre, and Godhusk. They’re all fantastic, albeit slightly edgier and more graphic than Vermis.
If you’re interested, you’ll have to import these books from Italy, but so much the better. The publication quality of the physical books is excellent, and they have the distinctive Italian book smell. If you haven’t had the pleasure: while US and UK books tend to have a slightly sweet smell, the smell of Italian books is stronger, earthier, and more complex. If US+UK books are like vanilla extract, then Italian books are like red wine. In any case, the books are worth importing. International shipping from the European Union isn’t as expensive as you’d think, and it’s surprisingly quick.
Of all the books published by Hollow Press, Vermis remains my favorite. I’d recommend it especially to people who don’t want to play Dark Souls (or King’s Field) but are still curious about the atmosphere and flavor of this genre of games. It’s really something special.
Before describing what this book is, it’s useful to describe what it isn’t. First, Vermis is entirely original. Although its world will be familiar to fans of Dark Souls and FromSoft’s earlier King’s Field series of dungeon crawlers, there are no callbacks or veiled references or tongue-in-cheek jokes about how “it’s dangerous to go alone.” Vermis is completely its own thing.
Second, though Vermis emulates the style of a strategy guide, Plastiboo has an artistic eye for page layout that many guides in the 1990s did not. In other words, Vermis is easy to read. It also forms a narrative, albeit not in a novelistic sense. Although the text is fragmented, the reader never struggles to move from page to page. This is not House of Leaves (thank god).
Third, Vermis is more “dark fantasy” than “horror.” Although there are stylistic elements of horror, Vermis never attempts to provoke dread, disgust, or anxiety. I wouldn’t call Vermis “understated,” as it features all manner of grotesque monsters, but it’s quiet and contemplative. Aside from your character’s constant forward progress, there’s not much action.
Vermis is written entirely in a second-person point of view, a stylistic choice that works remarkably well in this context. The player-character has no set identity, so the “you” of the story is handled lightly and never becomes overbearing. The second-person narration successfully achieves its intention, which is to draw the reader deeper into a sense of playing the game.
After being introduced to a range of starting classes, you wake into a peaceful area called Deadman’s Garden, whose ferns and mosses are protected by the skeleton of a sleeping giant. You then descend into an isolated crypt, where you loot your first sword from a corpse. You also meet your first NPC, the Lonely Knight.
The Lonely Knight is not hostile, and Vermis shares his dialogue boxes. Although Plastiboo is canny enough never to narrate battles, the format of Vermis obliquely suggests gameplay. “Despite his imposing appearance,” the text reads, “the Lonely Knight is totally harmless and will not defend himself from any attack.” Underneath this passage, however, is an insert with illustrations of the knight’s equipment, which your player presumably receives by killing him.
After navigating through the Isolated Crypt and emerging from its cliffside exit, you then venture into a swamp, a forest, and more crypts and caves, each with a unique theme.
Along the way, you cross paths with various NPCs (mostly fellow knights) and pick up a collection of items. The text describing these items and encounters alludes to gameplay that’s never made explicit. The decision to leave the more interactive elements of Vermis to the reader’s imagination works in concert with the second-person narration to draw the reader deeper into the ludic simulacrum.
Reading actual strategy guides can be an uncomfortable experience, and I’ve always felt that choose-your-own-adventure books never quite deliver what they promise. Through some unholy miracle, Vermis captures the spirit of playing a game while still structuring its text and layout to form a satisfying narrative. It’s a delicate balance, and I’m in awe of how Plastiboo manages to pull it off.
It’s still too soon to tell, but I think this book might have changed my life. I wasn’t aware that it was possible to tell a story in this way. Now that I’ve been enlightened, I want more; and, if it doesn’t exist, I’m determined to make it myself.
I’ve spent the past month doing internet deep dives while trying to find more books like Vermis, but everything that I saw people recommend – from Fever Knights to Tales from the Loop – didn’t scratch the same itch. Thankfully, Vermis has a “sequel,” Vermis II, which is a fascinating evolution of the formula. Plastiboo’s publisher, Hollow Press, also offers three similar titles: Age of Rot, Leyre, and Godhusk. They’re all fantastic, albeit slightly edgier and more graphic than Vermis.
If you’re interested, you’ll have to import these books from Italy, but so much the better. The publication quality of the physical books is excellent, and they have the distinctive Italian book smell. If you haven’t had the pleasure: while US and UK books tend to have a slightly sweet smell, the smell of Italian books is stronger, earthier, and more complex. If US+UK books are like vanilla extract, then Italian books are like red wine. In any case, the books are worth importing. International shipping from the European Union isn’t as expensive as you’d think, and it’s surprisingly quick.
Of all the books published by Hollow Press, Vermis remains my favorite. I’d recommend it especially to people who don’t want to play Dark Souls (or King’s Field) but are still curious about the atmosphere and flavor of this genre of games. It’s really something special.